Saturday night found Miles craving popcorn. A couple of years ago, we spent the smartest twenty bucks that we’ve ever spent and purchased an air popper. I’m not overly fond of the microwave stuff, so I brought stove-popped popcorn to the table of our relationship. My partner judged it as more delicious than the nuked fare, so we continued on with our popcorn preparation in this manner.
Then I noticed a pattern. Miles would pull…a “Miles”. He would crave the popcorn, he would pop it…and then leave the pot for me to clean. This got old very fast, as you can imagine.
So, in 2003, for health reasons of the mental, physical, and relationship sort, we acquired an air popper. It’s the handiest thing in the world…idiot proof in every way.
You throw a half-cup of popcorn seeds into the device, plug it in, and walk away. Easy, no?
Well, last Saturday, Miles sprouted so many extra thumbs that I held my breath every time he approached something somewhat delicate…you know, like me…erm…and the dinnerware. Why I thought he could handle the air popper escapes me.
I’ve installed weblog software on the server late last night. I keep opening the control panel, poking at with with my index finger and then withdrawing quickly—as if it were a scaly reptile with really big teeth.
So, look for that update over the next couple of days/months/years. Much handier than hard coding—and perhaps I could get Miles to post more often if I didn’t have him held at gunpoint to keep the html clean every time that he does. You never know.
My mom gave me a vase, and I have been at a loss with what to fill it with. In the end, it has become a glorified sugar holder, as it sits next to the coffeemaker.
Wouldn’t is absolutely stink—hypothetically speaking, naturally—if you had a web site, which you updated somewhat regularly and which inspired a somewhat healthy stream of daily visitors, and that domain expired…like 11 days ago?
Furthermore, wouldn’t it stink if the domain renewal notices were sent to a less than reliable recipient, say a husband-type character, and he kept forgetting to renew the domain until his wife, the more regular of the site updaters, stumbles to her computer to find her web site gone and her e-mail flooded with friendly notes concerning the welfare of said site?
Now, hypothetically still, I wonder how such a forgetful husband-type would be most properly dealt with?